


Unbreak My Heart

by shittyshittyfuckmytitty



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Gay, Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 07:36:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16868815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shittyshittyfuckmytitty/pseuds/shittyshittyfuckmytitty
Summary: Sean loved Arthur.Unfortunately, Arthur didn't return his feelings.–When Sean didn’t get an answer, he snorted and shook his head, the Irishman already regretting everything he did with the Englishman. Sean was just a rebound from a woman who broke his lovers heart years ago. A heart that Sean foolishly intended to rebuild, a heart Sean thought would one day belong to him.All Sean ever was to Arthur just a quick fuck.





	Unbreak My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> sean never died in this sorry not sorry enjoy

"Where've you been? Getting your brains fucked senseless by someone?”

The comment Arthur threw at Sean didn't exactly go unnoticed, as the Irishman threw his head over his shoulder, his ocean blue eyes squinting at the man behind him. Arthur’s beard was smooth-shaven and his hat was tilted on his head, a beer bottle in his hand. Jack Marston had just been rescued from Angelo Bronte– and Sean would be lying if he said that Arthur going out for hours on end didn't worry him. The stubborn Irishman didn't show it, but everyone knew his feelings for Arthur were strong. It was obvious, especially since he confessed to Micah Bell when he was drunk and off of his head, Arthur, Bill and Dutch standing a few feet behind the two. 

Sean rolled his eyes, taking the bottle out of Arthur’s hand as Arthur took a seat on the log next to him, and Sean took a swig. A big one. Any other day Sean would throw an insult back at Arthur, but on that day he was scarily frustrated and worried about his lover's safety. Not that he’d ever admit it to him. Their relationship was complicated. Arthur hooked up with other people whereas Sean was so infatuated with Arthur, the Irishman didn't even set his eyes on another 'potential' person. Now; the only other person he’d ever consider is probably Micah Bell, but he pushed Sean’s buttons more than Arthur ever bothered to.

"Course not," Sean spat sourly, resting his head on Arthur’s shoulder. "I’m a fuckin’ top. Ya should know that by now.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow at nothing in particularly, not phased by Sean’s harsh words, and unlike Sean hoped, he didn't even look down at the Irishman. The man was completely in his own world. For a split second, Sean let the disappointment set in his gut. All he was to Arthur was a pawn in a chess-game, someone to use for a quick fuck.

Hesitantly, Sean set the beer bottle down on the tree stump in front of the two, breaking away from Arthur. No point in lyin’ on him if he won’t even acknowledge me, the Irishman thought, running his hands over his stubble. God, how he missed even sitting next to Arthur. Sean hadn’t been near anyone in days– the bullet that rammed into his skull had begun to give him migraines even though it was successfully removed. 

The older man looked at Sean in puzzlement, his dark eyes staring into Sean’s light blue ones. “Why’d you move?”

The Irishman sat still for a few seconds, debating whether or not to answer his lover or leave. The conversation was dry and bland and Sean preferred the silence. Maybe it was Sean making everything awkward. Arthur was trying his best– maybe. Sean thought it over for a few more seconds, before deciding he might as well.

“You really ain’t as comfy as ya fink, Arthur Morgan.”

“You weren’t saying that a few nights ago,” Arthur recalled, his train of thought going back to the love making in Arthur’s tent that made the rest of the camp stay wide awake for half the night. “Have I done something?”

Sean snorted, raising his eyebrows. “Na, you ain’t done nothin’.” 

Lies spewed out of Sean’s mouth smoothly. Well, they weren’t exactly lies– he literally hadn’t done nothing. Hadn’t confessed his love for Sean or anything. The Irishman’s ears reddened at the memory of him confessing his undying love for Arthur, only to turn around and for him to be right behind him. Only for the two of them to stumble into Arthur’s tent and fuck for a few minutes. Only for Arthur to usher Sean out.

“I was I did something wrong for a second.”

Arthur’s eyes never left Sean’s defined face, and Sean felt the stare and mentally cursed himself out for feeling his body fill with warmth. The Irishman felt like fortune’s fool. He was disgusted with himself. He buried himself in Arthur and that’s all he could think about. Not Karen nor any other woman he ran across, not any other man, it was almost always Arthur.

Clearing his throat, Arthur reached out and grabbed Sean’s hand, intertwining their fingers. Sean knew where this was going and he didn’t want to go there. He felt like a right mug as it is; and sleeping with Arthur wouldn’t make it any better.

Despite his conscious warning him against it, Sean looked up at Arthur and was met with a shy smile. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you today.”

“You couldn’t, could ya?” Sean asked coldly, his voice a mutter, the lump in his throat growing. He knew where it was going. 

It always went there.

The two couldn’t have a steady conversation without Arthur hinting at it. It tired Sean out, but his love for Arthur bloomed much more than his hatred, so he shyly agreed every time. Some people around the camp said it was toxic, Sean described it as an addiction. He felt like a crackhead around Arthur and he couldn't get enough of him.

“No. That’s why I was wondering..” Arthur trailed off, pressing a tender kiss to the Irishman’s jaw which made Sean shut his eyes in delight, relishing in the moment. “If we could go to my tent for the night?”

Eyes closed, Sean felt Arthur squeeze his thigh, and despite Sean being the top, he hung on to these moments with his lover, soft kisses, adoration and gentle words because he rarely received them. Arthur faintly moved Sean’s hair to the side, his lips pressing on the Irishman’s neck, and although Sean tried to hold it in, he let out a moan before realising the predicament he was in. Sean was letting Arthur get away with it again. Sean opened his eyes and let them adjust to the light, letting Arthur kiss him a little longer, just... just a little more, before pushing him away, Sean’s blue eyes staring into Arthur’s shocked ones. His lover’s expression twisted straight away, being replaced with his calm one.

Sean shook his head rapidly, his heart hammering in his chest. “I needa talk to ya, Arthur. And ya can’t ignore me. You have to answer honestly. Promise me.”

“I promise. Talk. I’m all ears.”

“I ain’t tryna be blunt towards ya, Arthur. But I know ya heard what I said to Micah. I just need ya to answer me,” Sean spoke what was on his mind truthfully, his voice wobbling a bit which was uncommon for the Irishman. “Do you feel the same?”

For a split second, Arthur’s breath hitched in his throat, and by then Sean already knew his answer. Not wanting to cry in front of his lover, or whatever you’d call him, he acted unphased, watching as the older man timidly bit his lip.

Arthur seemed to be lost in a train of thought, before letting out a heavy breath neither of the two men realised he was holding. “No. I don’t feel the same.”

“Ah. Right.”

The words stung the Irishman much more than he’d care to show, his heart feeling as if it was being pinched, his body feeling numb. Arthur quickly tried to justify himself, his hands expressing themselves as if they were a defence mechanism. 

“I hope you understand–“

Sean interrupted him, standing up slowly, a hickey slowly forming on his neck where Arthur planted kisses that seemed as soft as roses. “Na, Arthur Morgan, I hope ya understand this. I ain’t yours no more. Since ya don’t feel the same, I can’t let ya use me no longer.”

“I was never using you,” Arthur defended himself, but even he could sense the doubt in his own voice. He used to have Sean hanging onto every word he spoke, but now, Sean just stared at the man, his expression blank and unreadable. “I just.. I loved the sex and not you, I guess.”

“It’s ‘cause of tha Mary girl, ain’t it?” 

When Sean didn’t get an answer, he snorted and shook his head, the Irishman already regretting everything he did with the Englishman. Fuckin' americans. Sean was just a rebound from a woman who broke his lovers heart years ago. A heart that Sean foolishly intended to rebuild, a heart Sean thought would one day belong to him.

All Sean ever was to Arthur just a quick fuck.

“I was just a fuckin' rebound, weren’t I?”

Arthur shook his head slowly, standing and trying to get closer to the Irishman. Sean refused, backing away as much as he possibly could without seeming like Arthur actually hurt Irishman's feelings, “That’s not all you were, Sean. You meant a lot to me. Hell, you still do. Don’t do something you’re gonna regret."

“I’m sorry, Arthur,” Sean said after a moment of silence, his emotions running wild.“I’m truly sorry, but I ain't doin' this no more. I ain't Mary and I ain’t ever gonna be. It’s you and yaself from now on.”

The Irishman searched his jean pockets, and pulled out the lucky charm Arthur stole for him. Sean debated whether or not to give it back for a few seconds, wanting a shed of a reminder of the thing that the two once were, but the single tear sliding down his cheek forced Sean to press it into Arthur’s empty palm. The feeling of Arthur’s warm hand against Sean’s cold fingertips gave him Déjà Vu, but he pulled away nonetheless, refusing to get wrapped up in the Englishman again. 

He turned himself around, walking further and further away from his lover and Arthur called and whispered for him a few times; but his voice was just an echo in his head. He felt dizzy, and he didn't know if it was from the fact he was buzzed or the fact that silent tears were falling down his face. Sean heard the rest of the camp laughing and having a good time, whereas he was breaking with every passing second, wishing the bullet had just moved an inch closer to his brain so he could finally just stop caring about the man he loved. Carelessly, he stopped for a second, and waved at Arthur who was staring at him as if Sean was Jesus himself, before smiling the best smile he could possibly muster.

“’Ave a good night, Arthur Morgan.”


End file.
